


I'll Pray For You, Always

by MissEmmanuelle



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Half-Sibling Incest, Jon Snow is King in the North, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-19 23:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissEmmanuelle/pseuds/MissEmmanuelle
Summary: Jon knows it's wrong to desire what is forbidden. But how can something so good and pure be so wrong?





	I'll Pray For You, Always

**Author's Note:**

> Anon ask prompt for jonsa-creatives on Tumblr.
> 
> Anonymous asked:
> 
> Fic prompt: Sansa is drunk when Jon returns to winterfell. They discuss potential marriage alliances for each of them, Sansa with a little too much candor... Jon helps Sansa ready tor bed because she's too hammered.
> 
> I LOVED WRITING THIS. My heart and soul went into this, I don't know why though - I was blessed by the Giant Fluffy Plot Bunny for this one.
> 
> One shot - please note that I may not be able to continue this fic because err.. I don't know how to?? Unless Giant Fluffy Plot Bunny comes knocking again..
> 
> Did a bit of tweaking to enhance the storyline a bit. Prayer ending inspired by Outlander - possibly the most romantic tv drama I've watched in a long while.
> 
> *unbeta'd so pardon the mistakes!
> 
> For Jonsa canon fluff lovers - *group hugs*
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Elle xxx (jonsaforlife/jonsa-creatives on Tumblr - come say hi!)

It was a knock that broke the dam. Three gentle raps on the door that caught him unawares, of the torrential flood of thoughts and feelings that had led him up to this point. A point, if crossed, there was no return.

It had already been hours after dusk and several casks of ale between him and Davos that Jon decided it was perhaps better discussed with a clearer mind. The sudden interruption was welcomed indeed. Another soft knock caused Jon to let out a small smile when he recognised who it was.

“It’s late. Best we discuss this again tomorrow, Ser Davos. Get some rest.”

Davos nodded and greeted Sansa as she entered the chambers. “Aye, it is. Till then, your Grace. My Lady.”

Sansa returned his greeting with a nod and turned her attention to Jon, albeit only briefly before her eyes caught sight of the large map laid on the study before her.

“Setting up fortresses and guard posts, facing the Wall. Hope to get around it soon,” Jon explained as he watched her examine the various sigils placed on different parts of the map.  _In time hopefully, before the dead come marching._

 “For the White Walkers?”

Jon sighed and his hands sought for his goblet. “Aye. Sentry posts. No harm in guarding the North from everything else.“

“Are you going to tell the Lords of your plans then?” Sansa asked as her thumbs ran along the map’s edges. It was an old parchment, a map from the library, one that resembled another that Maester Luwin once owned as he told stories of the First Men when they were little.

“Soon enough. Still up?” Jon looked up at Sansa as he set his cup down. That was the last of his ale and Jon realised tonight was going to be another of him keeping watch. Sleep was but a memory.

Sansa sighed wistfully. The nightmares still haunt her and kept her away from her own bed.  _No._  Not hers.  _Mother and Father’s bed._

“I find it hard to sleep sometimes. Being back here… In mother and father’s room. It’s different, I suppose. Takes some getting used to.”

Jon nodded, he knew well what she meant. It was just the two of them now. And Winterfell Castle. The future of Winterfell and the North rested on both their weary shoulders. It was a burden, he could not deny; yet a gift of honour, to be the protector of the very home he knew and loved.

“Lord Manderly sent us a wagon of wine, this morning. From his own press, he said. I was wondering if the King in the North would like to try some,” Sansa held up a cask and smiled.

Jon could only chuckle at the impeccable timing. “Well, I won’t be a good King if I didn’t. I’ll give my thanks to him tomorrow. You didn’t have to send it to me personally, Sansa.”

Sansa poured some into Jon’s empty cup and another for herself. “I didn’t want to risk any talk of battle leaving your chambers, should you and Davos were discussing such matters. So I decided to take this to you myself.”

Jon’s lips slowly curved into a smile.  _Talk of battles and Sansa_. Nothing could be further apart.  _Who is this girl? This woman?_ Nonetheless, it was still as clear as day as he remembered it, the moment his eyes fell on her, as he watched the Knights of the Vale stomp the Bolton army to their deaths. Sansa did not flinch one bit as the carnage unfolded before her. It was almost as if it was another person who led the march and not the sweet Sansa he thought he once knew.

“Well, we weren’t but caution is always good advice. And I need to listen more, or so I’ve been told.”

Sansa grinned and once again it struck him, the stirring rising within him, as he caught the sparkle of her pale blue eyes, as blue as the azure sky on a clear summer’s day, against the  gentle flicker of candle light.

* * *

“It’s quite good, no? Good thing he sent a wagon load of it, perhaps I should thank him too when you do,” Sansa giggled as she sipped the last mouthful swirling in her cup. This was very likely her third. Or fourth. Fifth, maybe. It was all a blur. She remembered it was a large and heavy cask that she carried in her hand. She had lost count how many Jon had already.

“Aye it is. Very good. I didn’t know you like wine, Sansa. But then..  I suppose I don’t know much about you, now, do I.”

The wine had brought a slight flush to her face and made her belly warm, besides her weary mood it lifted. Indeed, it was good. She felt lighter, almost as if she could float, without a care in the world. She could do anything, say anything and be anything she wanted.

“Mmm… I don’t normally drink, I’ve seen what it does to people but this wine, I quite like it. And what exactly do you wish to know about me, your Grace?” Sansa teased playfully as she slowly rose from her seat and walked carefully to the edge of the bed. It looked awfully like hers.  _Why yes_ , it was her bed.

“Sansa, are you all right? Do you wish to return to your room? I’ll go fetch Brienn-”

“You silly numpty, this is  _my_  room. But you can stay, if you like. I like talking to you,” Sansa said, her voice in an almost whisper and smiled sweetly at Jon. It was true. If he wasn’t his usual grumpy self, Jon was perfectly good company. Sansa liked that he was family, someone she could feel safe with. As long as Jon was with her, nothing could harm her. Not even her nightmares. Perhaps, tonight sleep would finally come.

Jon watched as Sansa slowly lowered her head down till it rested on his pillow, her lovely smile made his heart swell and flutter all at the same time, a feeling he was quite unfamiliar with, yet highly frequent of late.

“Jon?”

 “Yes, Sansa?“

 “Have you ever thought of sharing your bed, you know… With someone?”

The question jolted him to sit up, pricking his ears wondering if he had heard wrongly, no thanks to the wine. He was content in leaving Sansa in his bed, while he watched her sleep from afar in his chair. It wasn’t meant for sleeping but it would do for tonight. If he could sleep at all, that is.

“Excuse me, Lady Sansa, what do you mean? I don’t think it’s something we should be discussing-”

“I never thought I wanted it. No. Not, after Ramsay. I didn’t want him near me at all. After what he did to me.”

 “Sansa, I-”

“But… But I wish to be held sometimes. In someone’s arms. Someone whom I love and who loves me back. I’ve always wondered what that feels like. I never knew and maybe I never will.”

“Don’t say that, Sansa. That’s not true.”

Jon glanced down uncomfortably, at his fidgety fingers as a slight lump formed in his throat.

“Who would want me, Jon? I’m twice married, both to enemies of our family. Both that I know who don’t love me. At least not the way I want to be loved. And, yet… here I am still wondering and hoping if there’s anyone out there who would? I’ve prayed so hard for it, I must confess. Besides praying for our family. I always say a prayer for my beloved to come to me. Is that silly? I hope he prays for me, too. Well…Whoever he is. Perhaps, men like you don’t think of such things but… have you thought of that, Jon? Don’t you ever wonder?”

There were a million things he should have said to end the conversation. Or how he could have just left his own chambers, at that very moment. That was what he should have done, or at least what he imagined doing.

But he didn’t. Instead, it was something deep inside that compelled him to leave his chair and approach his bed. It was something else entirely, when he came and sat beside Sansa, whose eyes were slowly closing, blissfully oblivious to anything or anyone around her. Jon looked at his empty cup and placed it on the floor, afraid and uncertain of his next move. This was very strange ground, indeed. Inappropriate and forbidden, yet it was this very nature that made his heart soar in ecstasy and delight.  _And in love._

His hands itched to run through the soft copper locks and caress the pale alabaster skin.  _Sansa_ , a name that echoed in his mind relentlessly, day and night, wherever he went and whatever he did. The name that was surely the cause of his unrest and sleepless nights. Chastising himself for feeling that way only heightened his longing and there was nothing he could do but let it pass.

“Yes, Sansa I do. I want and wish for the same things you do. Though I wish I had more time.”  _I wish we had more time. And I wish you weren’t my half sister._

"Hmmm…” Sansa mumbled in response, her voice drifting and her eyes shut as her soft breathing fell into a rhythmic pace. Jon paused to watch. She was a mesmerizing sight to behold. Even in her sleep, she had Jon overcome with emotions and thoughts he never knew he had in him.

 _Lady of Winterfell; a delicate Northern rose of astonishing beauty._ Jon leaned down carefully and gently stroked Sansa’s cheek, tucking away the stray strands from her face, behind her ears. His lips were only a breath away from hers but it summoned everything in Jon to pull back. Instead, he laid down next to her, his mouth close to her ear and took in a deep breath.

_Aye, I am a man of little faith but I pray sometimes. To the old gods and whoever that takes heed._

“Shield my beloved, my gentle dove and the love she bears in her heart. Keep her safe from harm, in this place and every place. On this night and on every night,” Jon whispered as he pressed his lips gently against her temple.

He too, had a prayer. A dear one; one he kept close to his heart.

“That  _is_  my prayer for you, sweet girl. Even if I’m not yours, I’ll pray for you that… One day, maybe in another life, you’re mine. To have and to hold. Always.”


End file.
